


don't you see the starlight? (don't you dream impossible things?)

by eyesonfire



Category: Doctor Who, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Doctor Who, Drabble, M/M, doctor! harry, harry is the doctor and steals louis away to show him the stars basically, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonfire/pseuds/eyesonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>they’re at the doors; they're through them; they’re running through the streets, and louis doesn't know why but he laughs with the exhilaration of it. he looks back at the man, and louis sees his eyes are alight with stars, burning with all the fire of the sun.</p><p>or the one where harry is the doctor and he steals louis away to show him the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't you see the starlight? (don't you dream impossible things?)

**Author's Note:**

> so this is something i dragged out of the depths of my laptop that i ran with once. tiny little drabble, don't expect a lot, but just tHINK how amazing this would be and all the things they would get up to and saving the world with the sexual tension of all the teenagers in rome omg.
> 
> sorry.
> 
> title; taylor swift, starlight

 

he's the most beautiful creature louis has ever seen. he's all angles and long limbs, soft curls and red lips. he's curves and he's sharp edges, he's sweet eyes and sinful smirk. he's an oxymoron; he's impossible.

 

he appears when louis least expects it: he'll catch a glimpse of him leaving the coffee shop; a hint of his face on that bus driving past. he's a secret, a wish the world can't bear to give him properly.

 

he's at the restaurant one night, dressed in a tight black shirt with a white bowtie, and he brings louis his steak and he flirts with his mum and makes him laugh: and then he's gone.

 

he's at the bowling alley, when the firm goes on friday evening, and he's in a gaudy polo and jeans that should be illegal, and he brings their table some greasy fries and hands louis his bowling shoes with a wink.

 

he's there, one night, in the bar; dancing in a blue shirt with love hearts, of all things on it, drink in hand. he notices louis, and makes his way over, and louis can suddenly hear his heartbeat in his chest.

 

"hi," he says, and louis' blood is rushing in his ears.

 

"hi," he replies, and the world tilts a little to the left.

 

"you were at the bowling alley," the man says, and louis nods.

 

"what's your name?" the man suddenly asks, loud over the beat of the music.

 

"louis," he replies. "louis tomlinson."

 

"louis tomlinson," the man repeats, and its music to his ears, his tongue turning his name into music.

 

the man holds out his hand, fingers long and graceful. louis takes it;

 

electric shocks;

 

and they dance, louis letting the alcohol in his veins guide his limbs with the beat, letting the bass flow through him.

 

he turns, meaning to pull his friends into the circle as well, and when he turns back, the man is gone.

 

frantically scanning the bar, louis asks his friends if they had seen him leave, and none of them had. his heart sinks, inexplicably, and the warm buzz in his veins is gone as surely if someone had injected ice water into his heart.

 

he goes home early that night, walking the cold dark streets of london alone, and he doesn't notice the foreign looking aircraft above him that causes mass panic.

 

nor does he notice the figure in the suit, with a face that resembles tentacles more than skin, skulking in the shadows of an alley as he walks past.

 

on monday morning, the cold seems to seep into his very bones. he'd slept in his socks, with all his blankets on, but it hadn't made much difference.

 

he drags his feet on the way to the office, grabbing a coffee at his usual cafe along the way. he doesn't notice the vaguely threatening figure reflected in the window behind him.

 

and when he gets to work and he sits at his desk and he stares at the same blank screen as always, he doesn't notice the commotion going on in the floor below.

 

he doesn't hear the screams, or see the flames, or even notice the strange figures: but he does notice when the impossible man appears next to his desk, hand outstretched.

 

he doesn't think, he doesn't question: his hand is in the man's and he's being tugged from his desk; and the heat emanating from the man's palm is burning.

the man pulls him up and jerks his arm a little harder. looking him dead in the eyes, the man utters  only one word. ‘run’.

 

and then he's running, being tugged along and it's crazy, ridiculous, insane and he hasn’t felt this alive in years.

 

the foyer of the building is bodies and flames and noise, figures too tall to be human and guns shooting beams of light. there are clouds of smoke obscuring his view, and he stumbles as he runs.

 

they’re at the doors; they're through them; they’re running through the streets, and louis doesn't know why but he laughs with the exhilaration of it. he looks back at the man, and louis sees his eyes are alight with stars, burning with all the fire of the sun.

 

they reach a box, down an alley and off to the side, and he is pulled inside before he can question it, and it's;

 

wow;

 

amazing. it goes against all laws of physics and rationality and common sense: it's nothing that his life is or could be and it's wonderful.

 

it's everything that business shirts and nine-to-fives are not; it's everything that answering phones and writing post-it-notes could never be; it's brilliant and it's in _sane_ and;

 

"it's bigger on the inside,"

 

and the man laughs, and pulls a lever with energetic force.

 

"they all say that," he grins, in his voice that's so almost condescending but so fond, so intrigued and caring and he throws a wink at louis, and tugs another lever, slams his fist on a button and;

 

" _away we go_ "

 

the box jerks, it shimmers in front of him and he stumbles, his mind racing and his eyes jerking from sight to sight, trying to take in everything that should technically be impossible.

 

“wait, where are we going?” louis yelps, tripping over his own feet as his mind desperately tries to catch up.

 

"we’re going to see the universe," the man says, and it's a ridiculous statement, but somehow louis can't help but believe him.

 

 

and theres the sensation of whirling, of falling and flying and soaring and louis can do nothing but hold on, and laugh, and the man is staring straight at him, alight with energy and excitement and wow;

 

just wow.

 

and then there's another jerk, vicious and sudden and louis trips again, only to have his fall broken by the man catching him in his impossibly long arms.

 

the man pushes him gently towards the doors with a quiet, contained; “go have a look”, his eyes burning and his tongue caught between his teeth, dimples popping as he grins.

 

and louis almost doesn't want to, doesn't want to leave this fantastic, fantasy box, but the doctor is practically jumping with energy, bouncing on the tips of his toes, and louis can't help but do what he asks.

 

and then he opens the door and;

 

his mind stops. because it can't be real, it can't possibly be this.

 

he can see planets. he can see stars and suns and moons, all swirling gently around each other in the darkness that is. it's endless, he can see glowing stars for as far as he can see; burning suns that are red and yellow and molten; planets that are huge, dark and bright and blue and red and he suddenly feels very, very small.

 

"amazing, isn't it?" the man murmurs from beside him, and louis nods dumbly, in awe. his mind is racing with questions, his brain unable to comprehend.

 

"how are we breathing?" he asks, and he watches as one of the nearer suns flicks out, a solar flare the size of a planet streching, twisting, flaming, and disappearing.

 

"oxygen field,” answers the man, quietly, not disturbing louis' reverent aura, as if that explains anything. louis nods, dumbstruck, as if it makes perfect sense because really, he doesn’t know what his own name is right now, so he’s just going to take his word for it.

 

"how?" he whispers, and he feels the man’s laugh tickle the back of his neck. the goosebumps down his spine suddenly have a lot less to do with the awe-insipring veiw in front of him.

 

"magic," replies the man, cheeky voice small in the hugeness. there is silence then, encompassing and complete, and then, in a whirlwind, the man moves. "right then!" he exclaims and louis barely has time to process the shift from silence to the exhuberance of him.

 

"all of time and space, all of history and all of the future, anything that could or did or will ever happen. where do you want to start?"

 

and all louis can do is laugh at the impossibility of it all, the insanity, the wonder. he turns to see the man, leaning long and lanky against the flashing lights and protruding levers of the centre.

 

"show me the universe," he says. and the man pulls this lever, and pushes that one, hits a button.

 

"off we go then," he says,  and his eyes lock with louis', burning with starlight.

 

and off they go, spinning into the nothingness that is full of colours and planets and suns and galaxies and everything that ever was. behind them, a small planet, a speck in the universe, a blue and green world that is quickly obscured by the masses of stars.

 

 

 

 


End file.
